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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/22865947">Smooth Moves Not Required</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/danceswithhamsters01/pseuds/danceswithhamsters01'>danceswithhamsters01</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Reddit Prompts [85]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Dragon Age (Video Games)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, First Meetings, Meet-Cute, Pining</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-02-23</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-02-23</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-01 06:20:04</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,534</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/22865947</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/danceswithhamsters01/pseuds/danceswithhamsters01</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Inspired by a prompt found on r/dragonage.</p><p>A modern AU depicting the first meeting of one Cullen Rutherford and the girl at his university that he's had a small crush on.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Female Amell/Cullen Rutherford</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Reddit Prompts [85]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1153856</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>10</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Smooth Moves Not Required</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>He tried his best to not seem like his heart was wanting to beat out of his chest. He’d picked that very particular spot, having noticed a pattern and wanting to observe. Quickly opening up one of his textbooks – perhaps it was the History of Cheesemongers in Orlais, or maybe it was one of the many novels he needed to read for his literature course, he wasn’t sure which – Cullen pretended to be deeply invested in the print on the page. Not that his brain was at all interested in determining if it was in fact written in Trade, it could’ve been in Ancient Tevene for all he knew. His feathers were too ruffled to read at the moment.</p><p>Soft steps reached his ears. He looked up while taking care to keep his head bent down over his book. His eyes darted to his watch. 2 o’clock, on the dot. A chair was quietly pulled back and then the person in question, the one he’d wanted to observe, took a seat. She had a thick book plopped on the table in front of her that was probably heavy enough to kill a man in the event of it being used as a weapon. One hand curled up into a lazy fist supported her cheek as she fell to studying.</p><p>Was it? Yes! Yes, it was! That pale girl with the blue-black hair! He found himself smiling as she fidgeted with the reading glasses that tried to slide off her nose. She was perfectly quiet and kept to herself, from what he’d noticed over the past few weeks, but she was incredibly distracting. A hand clapped on to his shoulder pulled Cullen from his thoughts.</p><p>“Are you going to keep staring or are you going to go talk to her?”</p><p>The taller blond man gave a start before holding a shushing finger in front of his mouth. “Maker’s sake, man! We’re in the library! Keep it down!” he whisper-hissed.</p><p>The other fellow, a lanky ginger, gave a snort. “Ah yes, because you are so very, very intently studying, yes? Do you even know what you’re reading right now, hm?”</p><p>Much to his annoyance, Cullen could feel heat coloring his cheeks. “As a matter of fact, I do! It’s… it’s….” he lifted the front cover of the text and read it. It had <em>The Care and Rearing of Mabari Over the Ages, sixth edition </em>emblazoned on it. “This. Very important. I need to study, how about you leave a man in peace?”</p><p>A soft chuckle and a sigh answered him. “Cullen, that book was from last quarter. Now, how about you stop drooling and go say hello?”</p><p>Cullen grumbled and shoved the book into his pack. He fished inside for one of the others he’d tossed in there. Knowing his luck, he probably grabbed the wrong ones entirely. His hand brushed against a small paperback. He pulled it out and inspected it. The front cover had <em>All</em><em>i</em><em>ndra and Her Soldier Love: Mythology in Thedas, a Modern Perspective </em>on the front in big bold yellow lettering. Well, at least it was something he’d be covering in one of his classes that evening.</p><p>“Oh ho! You’re taking that artsy-fartsy mythology course for one of your lit credits? I never took you for the ‘brooding sensitive’ type. Unless,” his friend brought a hand up to rub his chin in thought for a moment. “Unless… Rutherford, you sly dog! You’re taking that one because it’s mostly girls, aren’t you?!” The man cackled, wearing a grin that brought to mind a cat having just eaten a canary.</p><p>Cullen shot him a dirty look. “As it so happens, I find the material very interesting, all right?”</p><p>“Oh, so you’re going to tell me that all those pretty girls in that class are just a pleasant but unintended bonus?”</p><p>The blond stood up and shook his head. “You know, with how you talk, it’s becoming clear why you aren’t able to keep a girl interested in you for very long.”</p><p>His companion snorted. “Keep them? Why on earth would I want to <em>keep</em> them? Now’s the time to be sowing wild oats, having a bit of fun. You <em>do</em> know what fun is, don’t you?”</p><p>Cullen sighed, finding himself wanting to be anywhere but where he was right at that moment. He stole a glance in the direction of the table he’d been watching before he’d been interrupted. It was empty. <em>Blast! </em>“Y’know what? I’ve gotta go.”</p><p>His friend arched a brow and then spied a peek at the now-empty desk. “Aw, your quarry got away?”</p><p>“Maker’s arse, man! Stop talking about girls like that, it’s creepy,” he called over his shoulder as he made for the door.</p><p>His feet took him across campus to the appropriate room as if on auto-pilot. Routine was a comfort to him. He found his favorite seat, the front-most left side corner, and began pouring over his notes before the class began. If nothing else, Professor Leliana made the subject interesting.</p><p>It was after class while finding sanctuary -- and blessed coffee! -- at the cafe just off campus, <em>The Circle Tower, </em>that he saw her again. That hair was now woven into a ridiculously long braid and she was once again pushing her reading glasses up the bridge of her nose, gaze intently on an open book and a pencil frantically scribbling along the lines of a notebook. He gripped one of the straps to his bag tightly, debating with himself.</p><p>
  <em>I could just go over and say hello. “Hi, you probably don’t know me, but I’ve been watching you for the past month and change!” Er, no. Maybe not. That sounds creepy, doesn’t it? </em>
</p><p>Before he could make a decision one way or the other, fate seemed to intervene. One of the other customers, eager to get going and not at all paying attention to his surroundings, plowed into Cullen’s back, sending him flying forwards. He landed on his front, caramel mocha with extra whipped cream flying out of his hand. The nearly-empty cup went rolling and came to a stop next to a black leather Mary Jane shoe. The wearer of that shoe, the dark-haired mystery girl, gasped and scooted out of her chair.</p><p>“Are you alright?” she asked, concern plain in her quicksilver eyes, which were magnified by her lenses.</p><p><em>So much for being the one to speak first, </em>he thought.</p><p>She knelt down, a cluster of napkins stolen from the dispenser on her table in one hand. She began dabbing at the spilled coffee nearest him on the ground while offering him a couple of napkins to see to himself. Pushing himself into a sitting position, he bit back a groan when he found mocha seeping into the sleeve of his lucky sweatshirt.</p><p>“Well?” she asked.</p><p>He blinked several times and looked at her in confusion.</p><p>“You didn’t answer my question. Are you okay? That dude plowed into you pretty hard.” She scanned the room and glared. “Ass didn’t even stop to apologize, either.”</p><p>It felt like his tongue was firmly stuck to the roof of his mouth. He cursed himself, but still the traitorous thing wouldn’t let him utter a word.</p><p>She peered at him, sliding off her reading glasses, taking great interest in his eyes. “Well, it looks like you aren’t concussed. Wait,” she tilted her head, a hint of a smile on the left side of her mouth. “I’ve seen you around, haven’t I?”</p><p>
  <em>Oh crap. She’s noticed you staring at her and thinks you’re a total creep. Well done, Rutherford, you sodding dunce! </em>
</p><p>“You’re on the sportsball team, aren’t you?” she asked.</p><p>“I beg your pardon?” he asked with an indignant tone. Sportsball? Really? That’s what she called it?</p><p>She wore a big grin that dissolved into a laugh. “Ah, so he <em>can</em> speak! And yes, sportsball. They’re all the same to me. The only difference is what shape and size of ball the teams are chasing after. All the uniforms show off cute… features, regardless.”</p><p><em>Show off cute--? Maker’s breath! </em>He tried to will himself to not blush.</p><p>“Number thirty-seven, unless my eyes are deceiving me.” The lop-sided smile returned.</p><p>Oh… oh, that made some sense. She must’ve seen him play recently. “Y-yeah.”</p><p>“Ah, so that’s your name, too? Man, your parents were odd.” She offered a hand up, her neck craning upward to regard him after he stood at his full height.</p><p>He reached one hand to the back of his neck unthinkingly and rubbed it. “N-no, actually, the name’s Rutherford. Cullen Rutherford.”</p><p>She stuck her hand out, seemingly unphased by her much smaller paw vanishing in the grip of his own larger one. “Amell. Nice to meet you.”</p><p>He arched a golden brow. “Just Amell?”</p><p>It was her turn to be momentarily tongue-tied. After what was probably an internal battle, she added “Leo.” Reacting to the odd look shot her way, she clarified. “Short for Leonorah.”</p><p>“That’s--”</p><p>She hastily interrupted, cheeks starting to go pink. “An old lady’s name, I know. My first name’s even weirder, almost no one here can pronounce it. So… just Leo, okay?”</p><p>“O-- okay?” <em>There’s a story there, </em>he thought.</p>
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